Obedience
by N3k0
Summary: Sparrow's diary. She was a good person, once. In ten short years, the Spire took that from her. Reviews are love!
1. Chapter 1

1:

My name is Sparrow.

Others have called me many things. Friend, lover, hero. I dream, someday, of being called "Mother," though that day will not come for many years, yet. My child is barely a year old, now. I miss him so. Right now, the common folk seem to like calling me "Lionheart," for my victory over the Crucible. But in my "lion's" heart, I'm still Sparrow. I'm still the child I was so long ago.

Today, I am called Recruit 273.

I am writing this journal because ... I don't know how long I have.

Today, I was called to see the Commandant. He struck me, and demanded I thank him.

I refused.

Everything is muddled.

My name is Sparrow.

I will not obey.


	2. Chapter 2

2:

Does this belong to me? I found it underneath my bed.

My name is Recruit 273.

I have failed in my duty. I was ordered to guard a handful of slaves, without feeding them. But they looked at me, so pitifully, pleadingly. They begged for mercy, and in my weakness, I gave it to them.

For the first time in weeks, I was reminded of my dog. I can barely recall his face, now. Were there others, important to me? I can't remember. I suppose it doesn't matter. All that matters is my obedience. And I have failed.

I fed the slaves. One by one, each act of defiance leaving me drained, weak.

I felt something, though. Something … good.

I haven't felt that way in a very long time. I don't expect to again.

The Commandant will surely visit grievous torture on me for my disobedience. I welcome it. I deserve it. And yet … given the chance to do it again, I don't think my choice would be any different.

I deserve what fate befalls me.


	3. Chapter 3

3:

I have been promoted!

My name, they tell me, is now _Guard_ 273.

We make good progress on the completion of the Spire, but that progress is a measured thing, obtainable only through obedience.

I look back through these pages and wonder at the failure I had been.

The Commandant shows me the truth. When he strikes me, I thank him, because obedience is the way. When I have a moment of weakness, in my dealings with slaves, I remember that obedience is the way.

Obedience is the way. The _only_ way.


	4. Chapter 4

4:

My name is Guard 273, and I am surely about to die.

The Commandant requested my presence. The guard I had called friend – Guard 278 – lay on the floor, his mind shattered from the heavy application of the collar. I felt … sad. But I knew, _I _would never end up in such a state.

I was obedient.

The Commandant ordered me to end his miserable life. Guard 278 could no longer be made to obey.

I raised the sword I was given.

Something … _terrible_ filled my heart, filled my soul. I was frozen, unable to act, unable to move.

The Commandant knew my hesitation, I am sure. He used the collar, for the first time in years.

And still, I was unwilling – _unable – _to obey. I failed. Again and again, I failed. Tears filled my traitorous eyes, and I fell to the ground, and not from the pain of the collar.

The Commandant deemed me worthless.

He took the sword from me, and struck Guard 278 in my stead.

I _am_ worthless.


	5. Chapter 5

5:

I am often assigned to watch over a particular slave. It is not a difficult task, but I must confess it makes me uncomfortable. I do not understand why Lord Lucien keeps this slave, for he is a shriveled husk of a man, never even used for the menial labor given to most of the slaves. The other guards insist he is always silent, for _them._ To me, he whispers. In my mind, I think.

He tells me of the outside, as he remembers it anyway. He tells me of children. Of dogs.

Sometimes he even gives me stories of magic doors, of secrets long hidden from Albion – a world of adventure, of chaos. I desire no place in such a world. The ordered paradise my lord Lucien promises is often all that keeps me going.

This prisoner does not understand, and I have no interest in making him understand. Nor do I make the other Guards aware of the discomfort he gives me. They would insist I am mad. Beyond that, they would think that I dislike my duty, or intend to disobey. I am obedient.

I cannot remember a time when I wished to be disobedient, though sometimes the Commandant assures me I was, and this very book suggests the same. I was such a failure, once.

Now, I am _always_ obedient.


	6. Chapter 6

6:

A guard has gone missing, and I have been sent to retrieve him. I have been given a chance to redeem myself in the eyes of my Lord, and those of the Commandant. Where before, I have failed, I am now certain, I _will_ succeed.


	7. Chapter 7

7:

I write this now from aboard a boat.

The strange prisoner has … abducted me. It is the only word I can use to describe it. He attacked me, destroyed the collar. But I am _obedient._ I drew the weapon from the fallen guard, and I aimed it at him.

Lord Lucien would be most displeased. He would surely _kill me_ for such disobedience.

I would kill the prisoner. At least my demise might be short, and painless.

His voice entered my mind. It was weak, not nearly so strong as Lord Lucien's, but commanding.

I obeyed the voice.

I struck down the other Spire Guards, at its command. I killed the Commandant at this new voice's behest, and I could not understand why I did so.

I was obedient.

Now? I am a shell.


	8. Chapter 8

8:

We reached a dock. The strange prisoner is aglow with lines of Will, and it is he who guides the ship to its destination. He rested for nearly a day, ordering me about my work, guiding the ship. I am quick to obey.

For the first time in years, I noticed those same strange lines on my hands.

I cannot remember what they are for.

I was greeted by an old, blind woman at the dock, and a small, yellow dog. They both seemed … pleased, to see me. The dog leaped, placed its paws upon my chest, and licked my face. I struck it away and it whined, pitifully. I think perhaps I broke one or two of its ribs. A small price to pay, for obedience. It now follows me, meekly, limping along. The villagers look at it with pity, and me with fear. Fear is good. Fear is one of the first steps to obedience.

The blind woman now speaks in my head. She calls herself Theresa, and suggests I reread this journal, to remember who I 'truly' am.

I do not remember the blind fool who called herself "Sparrow."


	9. Chapter 9

9:

This "Theresa" instructed me to visit an old 'friend.'

I am obedient, and so I go. We meet at a tavern, myself and this 'friend.' This "Hammer." She, too, seems … overjoyed to see me. The woman is massive, almost as tall as I am, and far more broad. I was sometimes – rarely – mocked for being the scrawniest of the Spire Guards.

Those rare few who dared to mock me – and were not in a position of authority above me – did not live long to regret their insolence.

The massive woman, though, didn't mock me. Instead … she hugged me. I remember that word, though I cannot recall the meaning behind it. The emotion.

I stood stiff in her arms, and she pulled away. She seemed hurt that I didn't return her exuberance.

Emotion is a weakness.

Emotion distracts even the strongest of men from the purity of obedience.

I am instructed to visit the people I once knew.

This book informs me that I have a lover, a child. I do not recall their faces. I do not especially care to.

But I am instructed to do so. I will go to Bowerstone on the morrow. Perhaps someone there will know the identities of my "family."


	10. Chapter 10

10:

He saw me, in the Market. The place was so unfamiliar, I was completely lost, but he – the man who called himself my husband – he knew who I was, even though I have changed so much. He wrapped his arms around me, and he held me close.

Dave. His name was Dave, he told me. The child beside him, _we _had called Rob. And here, I found myself crying. I do not feel emotion. Understand this. But my eyes leaked tears, and I could not contain my sobs. The child spoke, and his tone was worried. I didn't hear what he said. For a moment, I thought it didn't matter. Children – the slaves, they sometimes had children, replenishing their numbers naturally – they were never to speak. I contemplated striking the boy, that he might learn his lesson.

I missed the first words my child – _my own child_ – ever spoke to me.

I felt the need to strike him, to show him his place in the world.

What kind of monster have I become?

The day continued as an unqualified disaster. The man had missed me. He thought I should show him that I still loved him.

He was unhappy with my performance. He demanded that I do better. That I … _try._

He is afraid of me now. He is sitting upstairs, with his son. With _our_ son. He is trying to explain to the boy that there is something very wrong with me.

Is there something wrong with me?

I cannot remember ever having been different than I am, now.


	11. Chapter 11

11:

I find myself sleeping more than is necessary, and I often lose myself in thought. I remember the Spire, the paths I used to walk, the faces of the prisoners. I remember Guard 278, and his weakness. He had a wife. A woman named Lil. I remember more about him than I do my own husband. I don't even remember what sorts of gifts he likes. He says he misses how intimate we were. He misses a lot of things. I sometimes wish that I missed him.

The world outside the Spire is strange and chaotic.

The dog continues to follow me, faithful and obedient. He knows his place in the world. I purchased a potion to heal his wounds, as a reward for his loyalty.

The child, too, often follows me. He has tried many times to speak with me. Every time, I get the urge to strike him. Children should be silent. But I do not. I am not certain why.

I practice my sword work at night, when the boy and his father are asleep. Dave knows that I leave his bed at night, but I do not think he knows where it is I go. He often asks me what happened, to make me so cold, so hard. I do not remember ever being otherwise.


	12. Chapter 12

12:

The woman, Theresa, called for me, tonight.

I am obedient, and her voice is strong. So strong, more than Lucien, even.

I find myself leaving my home. I do not bother to say goodbye. I know that is what the man expects of me – Dave – and the child, as well, and still, I do not say goodbye.

Perhaps it is because I do not want to see their faces, their heartbreak when I go. I was always softer than the other guards, when it came to handling the slaves. One more of my many failures.

I sit now in the ruins of the ancient Guild of Heroes, and I await my next orders.

The massive woman looks upon me with pity.

The wraith-like, dark-skinned man apologizes for some long-past misdeed. I do not remember having a sister. I do not remember her name, or what she looked like. Apparently she is dead now.

I do not know how I feel about that.

I am supposed to assist the two Heroes in their attempt to reach Bloodstone. We are to locate the third of their number, a so-called "Hero of Skill."


	13. Chapter 13

13:

Common townsfolk are afraid of me. Of my uniform, and what it represents. It is like a second skin to me, the mark that I once held favor as a Spire Guard.

Some laugh at my appearance. I understand I am not to kill them. That this person, this "Lionheart" I used to be would never have done such a thing, and that they are free citizens, not slaves. The guards of the cities I travel to are weak, but it is not my goal to sow chaos and discord.

I allow their mockery to pass unpunished, as Theresa has suggested.

I sit now in the tavern in Bloodstone. My arrival was a success – "Hammer" and "Garth" were not so fortunate, however. They remain behind.

I do not know if this "Reaver" is, indeed, their "Hero of Skill." But, they have asked that I bring him to them, and he has asked me to accomplish a task for him.

I lingered for a moment or two longer than was necessary, outside this 'hero's door. He had apparently commissioned a sculpture from an artisan. It was not to his liking, so he dispatched of the man.

Perhaps the next one will be more obedient.

I will complete my task on the morrow. It is a simple thing: a delivery.

I will obey. There is nothing left for me, if I do not.


	14. Chapter 14

14:

The delivery was a trick.

I can't really say I'm surprised by this.

The mutt who follows me is a coward, but then, I suppose this "Sparrow" was a soft, weak woman, unable to command the obedience of even a simple animal. No matter. Even if I were to punish him for his cowardice, he would not understand. I spared him.

But yes. The delivery was a sham. Apparently, this "Reaver" sacrifices the youth and beauty of others to some shadowy deities, in exchange for his own. I do not especially care about beauty – I worry only that the loss of my youth will make me ineffective.

There was a girl there, taken, possibly, as an alternative. It did not even occur to me that I could have given them the girl, instead, until just now.

Pity.


	15. Chapter 15

15:

Many obstacles have been overcome since I last wrote and ….

I finally remember who I am. Who I was, anyway.

My name is Sparrow.

I lived on a farm, once, with my parents and my older sister, Rose. Those were happier times.

When I was a child, I tried to do good deeds, and help wherever I could – until the day that my sister was taken from me, shot and killed by _Lord_ Lucien himself, to avoid some inescapable prophecy.

Some of the details remain hazy. I expect they always will. There are experiences I have lost that I may never reclaim. The Spire has left me … changed, from the person I once was.

I faced – and killed – Lucien in what he thought was the hour of his greatest triumph.

It was not without price.

The man, Dave, and the child, Rob. I remember them now. I remember the day my boy was born, his beautiful blue eyes – just like mine. I remember, he had his father's face. I remember loving, truly loving his father.

I remember my faithful dog. He followed me everywhere, showing me the wonder of this land.

I think I am cursed. Those around me, those I _truly_ love – they die. My parents, my sister. My husband, my child, even my _dog_ have been taken from me. The innocent civilians, people who look at me and see only the Hero they longed for – they live. They prosper, because of me. And I am happy for them. Theresa asked me to make a choice. It wasn't a difficult one.

If those I loved were brought back with my wish, when next would they die? In some bandit raid? An assassination, perhaps? My actions have not left me loved by all; certainly the bandits and scum I have murdered had families, loved ones, of their own. Their loved ones would want revenge.

No, better that those closest to me stay dead. They'll be happy, there.

I chose the good of the many.


End file.
